In Times Like These
by Niko
Summary: This can easily be placed into the Star Light, Star Bright time line. It can be about any two characters but knowing my preference you shouldn't find it hard to see who I envisioned.


  
In Times Like These  
  
*.oO@Oo.*   
  
Love. What a distant word in times like these. And yet, I find it louder and truer in the midst of our battles than at any other time. Love flourishes in these times of trepidation. Maybe that's why some of the greatest love stories ever written were also tragedies. Maybe that's why there can never be a happily ever after without some evil plot. Life may not be a fairy tale but the trials are the same whether by a wicked witch or war At least in a fairy tale, you know everything will turn out alright and your enemy isn't fate. People say death is life's great inevitability, but it is of my opinion that people in general are stupid. Death may be unsurpassable but at our age, its unthinkable, even in war. People say we shouldn't cry over our loss because those who have passed have gone on to a better place. There is no 'better place' for people like me. People like me deserve Hell and the pit we've dug to suffer in. People like me don't cry anyway. It's a weakness. Yeah, life's 'the shit' but that doesn't mean I have to let on that I've noticed. It's hard not to notice though. Hard not to see the empty bed my feet steadily carry me towards. The others. Do they see it like I do? He's supposed to be sleeping there, his steady breathing lulling me to sleep as well. He used to sleep here... and so did I. There was no sex. Sometimes I let myself believe that he felt for me like I craved for him but I never asked. Perhaps I was to embarrassed or ashamed. He was, after all, my best friend. So why did we sleep in each other's arms? All I know is that I've never felt such warmth and comfort, as if my body and soul had been engulfed in the fluffiest blanket imaginable. I know he felt it too. Some nights I'd sleep in my own bed only to wake up with the face on an angel nestled close to mine. His eyes would be closed and his lips slightly parted, his warm breath befalling to my face. I'd never seen him in such a state of peace. And I'd watch him, finding my own peace. Love. Such a distant word in times like these. And yet, I think I loved him. As I lay on his bed and feel the cold beneath and around me it is only clearer to me of his absence. I'm the only one here and when I wake no angel's face will greet me. He's not coming back. Not this time. I hold a pillow to my chest, hoping to dull the ache within. The others don't see me. The others are away from here. I don't care to ask where exactly. As long as they leave me alone. They'll ask me to talk about it. I don't want to say anything. Thinking is hard enough. When we saw the broadcast I knew what I wanted to say but that was then and it seems like an eternity has passed since. I wanted to scream. Wanted to kill. I wanted to wake up from the nightmare. But it was no dream. And the bullets flew and the body on our small television screen went limp and hung there, hands bound behind him to a pole stuck deep in the earth. Executed. He was executed. They broadcast it live to the public on every channel as if it were an ordinary news bulletin. They never showed his face. I wish I could have seen him one last time but I'm glad I didn't have to look into those eyes as they shot him... repeatedly. I don't think such a vision could have ever left my mind, not even in my dreams. I want to remember him as he was when I watched him sleep. He sleeps forever now. They had to hold me down when the soldiers on the screen took turns emptying their guns of ammunition into his already dead form. I shouted and cursed, tried to punch the others in a vain attempt to shut out the recording before me. Someone turned the television off, another slapped me hard to calm my hysteria and yet another held me close, their tears washing over me though I felt nothing. I feel now though. I feel lonely, depression nipping, tearing, shedding my being. My best friend, gone forever in an instant. And I never saw it coming. I pull the pillow closer to me, my eyes squeezed shut to dull the pain. I don't want to feel. I want to be numb, want to walk away with a shrug or a wave and not remain here, curled up on his bed, waiting. For what? For him to come back and lie beside me? Or do I wait to join him? If the former is true then someone shoot me and put me out of my misery cause I'll be waiting her forever. If the latter is true then leave me be for a broken heart ales me and only with time will I mend. The announcer hadn't even given him a name. They said he was a Gundam Pilot and left it at that as they escorted him to the pole and the firing squad filed out of the building. I doubt he was even tried. Convicted and executed. That's how thing work nowadays. Even for fifteen-year-olds. Even for him. And maybe someday, for me. I wish I'd told him just how much his friendship meant to me when the opportunity was still here. I know he knew. I could see it in his eyes. But I still wish I had told him more. And I wish I could have told him I love him. Wishes don't come true, no matter how many stars you find in the night sky. But you can't blame a heart for trying. You can't blame me and my foolish dreams. Because in my mind, he's coming back.  
And in times like these, love is all we have left to hold on to.   
  



End file.
